Hit Me With Your Best Shot
by roothlace
Summary: Arthur returns to Camelot when Uther falls sick and meets Gwen


_Merlin_ doesn't belong to me

 **Hit Me With Your Best Shot**

"I'm going home, I have no choice."

Merlin laughed. "Don't tell me you're worried that this nurse will somehow convince your father to write you out of his will."

"Don't be daft, Merlin."

"Forgive me," Merlin replied, "I had forgotten that you've suddenly remembered that you have a father and he's very ill."

"I haven't suddenly remembered that I have a father," Arthur said, "unlike some people, and it's not like I knew that he was ill."

"My father abandoned me," Merlin told his friend. "He abandoned us for our own good; your father on the other hand has all but been begging you to return home for the past two weeks."

"It's convenient how everyone seems to forget that he almost disowned me a year ago," Arthur grumbled.

"He was angry with you," Merlin said, "you refused to marry Elena Charlton to save Pendragon's." Pendragon's was a chain of exclusive resorts that had been in the Pendragon family for five generations.

"I didn't need to marry Elena to save Pendragon's."

"Of course you didn't," Merlin agreed, "you had me do that for you."

A pen sailed over Merlin's head.

"You always were a lousy shot," Merlin said. "But we did save Pendragon's."

Arthur had sold a design for drones and submarines that he and Merlin had been working on for years and got enough money to inject into Pendragon's to keep it afloat. Uther hadn't been happy with Arthur's refusal to marry Elena; he had accused Arthur of not caring about his legacy and vowed that Arthur would be the death of him and then as a last stroke had not told him to leave the company since he didn't care about it.

Arthur had left Camelot and had been living in Fyrien for the past year; he continued overseeing the day-to-day running of Pendragon's and he and his father hadn't exchanged a word although Arthur sent him weekly reports and Uther sent his instructions through his assistant George.

Arthur had been content – almost – to have nothing to do with his father until he'd learned that Uther wasn't well. That thing that really angered though was that Uther hadn't seen fit to inform him himself and Arthur had found out from Gaius an old family friend.

"And anyway he's not the one who's asking me to return home," Arthur said. "Gaius is."

"Gaius, Uther, it's all the same," Merlin replied. "You need to go home and see your father."

"Did I hear you mention something about a nurse?"

"Finally," Merlin laughed, "took you long enough."

"He hired a nurse?" Arthur was incredulous, "he must be really sick. You know how much Father hates appearing weak. Did Gaius tell you that he hired a nurse?"

"No, he didn't," Merlin said, "but he must have."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Merlin shrugged, "isn't that what sick people do?"

"I really don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you," Arthur said, "you talk like you know things when you know nothing at all."

" _Really_?"

"You're the one who brought up the nonexistent nurse," Arthur pointed out.

"Sick people get nurses," Merlin told him. "I guess that means we're leaving in about an hour's time."

"You're coming home?"

"You don't have to pretend to be surprised," Merlin said, "you knew I'd come with you like I always do."

"It's Maryann, isn't it?" Arthur teased him.

"Her name, as I'm sure you're aware, is Freya," Merlin told him sourly, "and it's not about her."

000

"I can't believe we got the job."

"I don't know why you're so excited," Elyan grumbled, "you're going to be cleaning up after Uther Pendragon."

"I'm his nurse not his maid," Gwen reminded her brother, "and he's our first client. Imagine, our first client is high profile, one of the most famous people in Camelot; do you have any idea what that's going to do for our agency?"

"I know, I know," Elyan said, and he did, "but still, I don't like the idea of you doing the actual work."

"We can't afford to hire any nurses yet," Gwen reminded him, "but luckily we're both qualified, besides like Dr. Gaius said I'm just ensuring that he takes his meds, checking his temperature, that sort of thing."

Elyan was about to suggest that maybe he should do the work but he knew Gwen wouldn't agree; she would want to take care of their important and more importantly their first client. He knew that he had to prove himself to her – he had let her down so many times but he was determined to show her that he had changed. That he could be counted on.

"Dad is going to be so happy when he hears," he said instead. Tom was on a month-long hiking holiday with a few of his friends, and they still had two weeks left of it.

"Yes," Gwen agreed, "finally we're going to be able to do all those things we've always wanted." Buy new furniture maybe a new fridge and washing machine, she told herself silently. Dr. Gaius was truly a godsend.

000

Arthur hurried down the corridor to his father's room. When he got to it, it was slightly open and a quick glance showed him that it was empty. He slowly entered it and looked at the well-made bed.

"He's in the back garden."

Arthur turned. He was quite unprepared for what he saw. She was quite simply the most stunning woman he'd ever seen.

"Huh?" He was surely dreaming.

"You must be Arthur," she said. "Your father's in the back garden." Of course she'd seen pictures of him on the telly, in newspapers and around the house but he was …more… in person. Quite the most handsome man she'd ever seen.

"Right," he swallowed, "I'm be going then."

"Right."

He began to walk away and then turned back to her. "Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm Guinevere…Gwen," she smiled, "his nurse."

"Guinevere," he said, "I'm Arthur." He shut his eyes and shook his head slightly when he remembered that she had guessed that already. "But you knew that already."

"Yes I guess I did."

"Back garden, you said?"

"Back garden," her smile widened.

"I'll be off then."

"Okay."

"Okay."

000

"I saw that."

"Of course you did Merlin."

"Told you they'd be a nurse."

"Yes, Merlin, you did."

000


End file.
